Thursday, November 29, 2012

Windmills and Fridges

Visited the wonderful composer Michael Colgrass and his beautiful wife Ulla in their lakeside condo this morning.  Talking about life choices.
Ulla said that if I imagine what I want in life, it will appear.  She meant true, concentrated, active imagination that commits to every detail and connection with the desired results. Michael said that life is like a fridge... if you just open the door and stare in it, you cannot see what you want, yet if you close it and think for a moment (or notice your coffee on the counter), when you open the fridge again, you will see the carton of milk right in front of you.  Interestingly, when I raced home after our visit to grab my phone before heading to the university, my own fridge was broken again (heating merrily) so I transferred everything into Guy’s fridge. Then the Toronto Symphony called to ask if I would come and play the third bassoon part for Strauss’ Don Quixote as their bassoonist was ill, oh and that the concert was at 6:30.  I said yes.

Met Cecilia at the University and played through our Vivaldi Concerti (Rv 480 and 495).

Met my students briefly and told them I would be back to the Conservatory after the concert.

Then ran to Roy Thomson Hall, changed, slapped on makeup, got out my screwdriver and put on my whisper key lock; I always take it off for concerti and solo stuff but always need it for the soft, low second or third parts with I play with the TSO.  Then Michael Sweeney and I played through the Strauss to identify the road map, then we played it... soloists were fantastic (Joseph Johnson, Teng Li, Jonathan Crow) and I didn’t get lost (woohoo).
Then I beetled up to the Conservatory to teach an ardent young player who keenly wants to play in orchestras for a living and wanted advice on how to navigate all the mountains of work that has to be done in addition to pursuing music.  I had a lot to say.

Home late... day starts early tomorrow with teaching... and maybe playing with the symphony again, and maybe, just maybe, playing through my concerti before nightfall.

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